Pieces of My World.

#writing

Friday nights spent half-watching reruns of The Office while half-texting until my fingers hurt. Instead tonight I drove my old white Mitsubishi to the Thai restaurant in town. Had to ease my craving for drunken noodle, calm my sour mood.

Immediately, I ordered a Thai Iced Tea. I never even knew what that was until my ex-boyfriend introduced me back in 2013. I traveled to Stony Brook to buy the special tea leaves from an Asian market once, purchased condensed milk then made it for him at home, used way too much condensed milk. He told me so. But I didn’t listen.

Four years of higher education landed me a job at a local deli where I was hired on the spot because the staff “liked my look.”

Five days a week I arrived (most of the time late) for a 7 a.m. shift. On a Tuesday, Jack Johnson played softly in the background as I set up the bagels in the front display case. I grabbed a plastic tub with two industrial sized sticks of butter and stuck it in the microwave. Three large loaves of Italian bread from Lakewood Bakery were placed on the cutting board before me, I slathered each loaf with a generous (yet not too generous) glob of softened butter. I hacked away at the bread with a sawing knife and wrapped the pieces up individually in cling wrap.

During the lunch rush one of the women who “ran the books” entered the restaurant area and watched as I stuck a piece of buttered bread on a business man’s red serving tray. I felt her staring at me. She reached a skinny, tanned hand into the basket of bread and lifted one up, she shook the bread in her fist as she uttered each syllable.

We live in the age of information with conveniences such as e-readers and the Internet. Personally, I get overwhelmed with how much is available to us. For me there is nothing better than the feel of a real book in my hands. I adore books because they contain specific information. When you read a physical book there is no aimlessly wandering around to the next webpage, no staring at bright screens. You can’t text and read a book (you could but if you are I bet you’re not paying much attention). Books have beautiful art on the cover, they take time to be produced. They aren’t so quick, simple and easy like everything else in our world today. Reading requires an effort.

Coffee Meets Bagel (CMB) claims to be all about “quality over quantity” matching you with one bagel at noon each day. If you and your bagel both hit “like” on one another you will be connected for exactly 7 days. If the conversation flows you may end up meeting them IRL (in real life). If the texting is infrequent the line expires and they fade off into the Online Dating Abyss.

CMB wants to create meaningful connections which will hopefully lead to a long-term relationship. This is advertised as an ideal app for women. I will say that all of the men I have met from CMB have led to second and sometimes third dates and most of them were looking for a relationship. That does not mean all of them were right for me or that all of them were sane.

The First Time

It was January. We met at a hotel bar for a drink. When I first laid eyes on him I thought he was arrogant. He led the way to our table with his hand pointed in the air. I looked at him and all I could think was, “No, no, no.”

He was strange. The lighting wasn’t the best so I could barely make out his face. He kept pulling these faces that looked like he was majorly disgusted by words/suggestions (see photo). I was so thirsty but I wouldn’t drink because when I arrived at the table, the water was already poured. You never know with people you meet online.